But first I turned back into the cave and bent over my companion. She was still sleeping peacefully. A ray of light which had fought its way through the leafy curtain fell upon her face in benediction. I saw how sleep had wiped away the lines of weariness and care, and I knew she would be ready for the task which nightfall would bring with it. I drew her cloak more closely about her, then went out softly, leaving her undisturbed. I glanced up and down the valley to assure myself that I was unobserved, drew carefully together the veil of vines behind me, then paused a moment to reflect. I had two things to do--I must secure food, and I must discover if possible the fate of our companions. I resolved to do the latter first, and so proceeded cautiously down the valley, keeping a sharp lookout on every side. I thought for a time that I had got my directions strangely reversed, for the sun appeared to be rising in the west instead of in the east; but I soon perceived that it was not rising at all, but setting, and that instead of being mid-morning, it was mid-afternoon. I had slept not three or four hours, as I had fancied, but eight or nine. That discovery had the effect of hastening my steps and lessening my caution. I had no time to lose, and whatever the result of the fight at the cliff, it was improbable that any of the enemy had lingered so long in the neighborhood. So I went forward boldly and as swiftly as I could, down the hill, into the narrow bed of the torrent where now murmured the clear waters of a little brook, over the rough stones, around a jagged point of rock--and the scene of the fight lay before me. For a moment I saw only the rocks, the red earth. Then my eye was caught by a huddled mass so trampled into the mud as to be almost indistinguishable from it, yet unmistakably a human body. I hastened to it; I bent above it and stared down into the battered and blackened face. Disfigured, repulsive as it was, I knew it instantly--it was Pasdeloup. With a sudden feeling of suffocation I stood erect and looked about me, trembling at the thought of the dread objects my eyes sought and yet shrank from. Then I drew a quick breath of relief, of joy, of thankfulness. Pasdeloup had sacrificed his life, indeed, but not in vain. His master had escaped--by some miracle he had escaped, bearing his wife with him. But which way had he gone? Why had he not pressed forward to the cave? Which way---- I stopped, shivering, my eyes burning into my brain; for there, in cruel exposure half way down the slope, were two objects....